


now introducing the galaxy's worst mechanics

by notjodieyet



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: M/M, Thoschei, annoying the doctor is the master's favorite hobby, based off a lil sketch, don't worry i would never hurt my wife, enemies AND friends AND lovers, llama u better like this, repairs are being done (lol but badly), rose is here she just. isn't in the fic, short oneshot, yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23295736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjodieyet/pseuds/notjodieyet
Summary: The Master is being extraordinarily annoying; the Doctor just wants him to shut up. And if that takes balancing with the Master sitting on his shoulders doing repairs, so be it.
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/The Master (Simm), The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 67





	now introducing the galaxy's worst mechanics

The Master had been steadfastedly wearing away at the Doctor’s nerves for a good three hours by now, and hopefully, something was going to come out of it eventually. (Although, in his opinion, a nicely annoyed Doctor was his own reward.)

“Wires up there are so frayed I can hardly believe you’re taking off without blowing up the entire left wing,” said the Master, casually, and kicked his legs against the cabinet on which he sat. 

The Doctor looked back at him, from where he was reassembling the toaster, and scowled. “Will you shut it?”

“Fancy words from a Time Lord who doesn’t have an off switch,” said the Master.

The Doctor didn’t have a quick response to that one, apparently, as he just went back to work. 

Normally, it was one of the Master’s favorite things to watch the Doctor work silently. He had this scrunched-up look of concentration, and his lips twisted so gorgeously, and he hummed old songs to himself as he screwed and twisted and fit things together. The Master would never admit it to him, not in a million and one years, but oh, how he adored watching the Doctor work.

Today, however, he’d woken up with the insatiable need to see the Doctor annoyed. Lucky for him, that was one of his most well-honed skills. 

“It’s like this old girl hasn’t seen a good repair job since she was being built. When was that, again?”

The Doctor ignored the question. 

“Ah! Nearly forgot you up and stole it.”

Ignore, ignore, ignore. The Doctor had gotten better at it.

“I’m pretty sure the heating system has heart problems,” the Master said. “One of these days, it’s going to drop out on you.”

“If it’s so bad, fix it yourself,” the Doctor snapped. 

“Give me a hand, won’t you?” said the Master, sliding off the counter and wandering over to where he sat at the table. He left a sloppy kiss on the Doctor’s cheek. 

The Doctor passed him the toolbox he was using, and the Master raised an eyebrow and handed it back. “An actual hand?”

The Master heard a muttered, “You’re a pain,” but the Doctor stood up nonetheless. “Where do you want to start?”

He bit back a few more indelicate suggestions, and said, “I think you need to do some rewiring up there.” The Master pointed to a panel tantalizingly far up on the wall. 

“Can’t reach up there. Can you move it a bit farther down?” said the Doctor, the second half of his sentence evidently directed towards the TARDIS itself. The TARDIS itself was not very responsive.

“Give me a hand up,” said the Master, snatching the toolbox from the Doctor’s hands. The Doctor glared at him. “A hand, please?”

The Doctor didn’t do anything at all, so the Master scrambled back onto the counter and used the bonus height to sit on the Doctor’s shoulders. They swayed a bit as the Doctor regained his footing. “What the fu—”

“Language, dear Doctor. Do me a favor and walk over there, will you?”

“Y-you…”

“And please don’t complain? You’re all mine tonight, and I have some very exciting activities planned for us. Don’t make me cancel.” 

The Doctor grumbled, but the Master didn’t hear one more protest from that beautiful mouth of his. 

The Master balanced the toolbox on his arm and snapped it open, removing the shiny tools that he needed, and then snapped it back closed. “Step a bit to the right.” The Doctor stepped a bit to the right. The Master leaned up and unscrewed the metal panel, flipped it open, and grimaced. “Ooh, that’s worse than I thought.”

“Shut it.” 

The Master picked up a tool that he’d completely forgotten the name of, and began to fix up the switches and wires. “What were you humming before?”

“That lullaby you used to sing when you thought I wasn’t listening.”

The Master’s cheeks flushed, and he dug a heel into the Doctor’s chest. “I didn’t sing anything.” 

The Doctor didn’t reply, but he hummed the first few notes of the lullaby. 

The Master continued his work, trying to block out the familiar sound of the Doctor singing, focusing on the repairs. “You need to do this more often.”

“Yeah. Do you want to hurry up on that before I fall over?”

The Master tsked. 

“Hurry. Up.”

“Hurrying up, Doctor, can you hush up a little bit?” 

Twist. Screw. He was almost done, _almost done_ … and everything blurred and then everything hurt. And (a nice bonus) he was in his favorite place to be: on top of the Doctor. 

“What the hell, darling?” The Doctor had, apparently, fallen over with the Master sitting atop his shoulders. 

“Sorry! Sorry.”

The bruises would heal quickly (the benefits of being a Time Lord, the Master supposed), and he began to untangle himself from the Doctor’s limbs. _Began_ being the very key word, because as soon as he met the Doctor’s pretty brown eyes, he couldn’t convince himself to move one bit. He was pretty sure the TARDIS was going to get very mad at him for ignoring those repairs, but all he could think about was that sweet, soft line of the Doctor’s lips and the little sound he was making as the Master looked him over. 

The Master leaned down and, very, very, very gently, pressed his lips to the Doctor’s. 

All thoughts of repairs were forgotten, and they didn’t stop kissing for a long time.


End file.
